Correspondence
by becs1
Summary: Clark and Ryan keep in touch. Major spoilers for "Heat". All reviews will be worshipped before the Holy Alter of Feedback. And, no, I'm not dead; thanks for asking.
1. Heat News on the Alien Front

**[A/N:**  I know, I know.  I have about five million fics in progress, and I just keep digging myself deeper and deeper into this rut of obligation to keep them up.  But I just had to write this.  The idea started in "Ryan" when Clark mentioned something about not sensing anything wrong in emails from Ryan.  My first reaction:  So they've been keeping in touch, eh?  The original idea was to go through all of the episodes from "Stray" to "Lineage" and add commentary between Clark and Ryan, a la Snuffleupagus' "Sister and Brother", but I really don't have the stamina for that, let alone the dedication.  Easily the most amusing and fertile episode in this bracket was "Heat", so I decided to just do this as a kind of throwaway fic for the hell of it.  So here it is.  If the plot bunny bites, I'll do another episode, all out of order and such, but please, don't beg me.  I'm a weak person, and I'll just end up having another unfinished masterpiece on my shoulders.  Anyway, this was really fun to write, and I can only hope it's half-as-a-hoot to read.  On a side note, Clark's email address is stolen from Christina K, because it's so damn clever.  And I know it's probably out of character, but it's for fun, so I don't care.  I separated Clark's email and Ryan's response into two chapters, so you can get the second half of this by clicking to purple right button over there.  Feel free to review on both pieces.  Feel incredibly, streaker-like freedom to review at all!  Please!  Reviews!!  And with that, I present:**]**

_Correspondence_

**From:** ckentrun@metro.ks.net  
**To:** psyduck88@hotmail.com  
**Subject:** News on the Alien Front

  
So.  Deep breaths now.  
  
The Good News:  I can light things on fire with my eyes!  
  
The Bad News:  I can light things on fire with my eyes.  
  
I hate being weird.  
  
So, a _Playboy Bunny-worthy babe was our new sex-ed teacher. Great. But did it have to be then that my super-hormones kicked in? Before I know it, I'm putting out a fire I think I'd started (my fault, as usual), and the Bunny-bio teacher is marrying Lex.  
  
Maybe you didn't hear me: Marrying! Lex!!  
  
I need you to come back and reassemble my life.  
  
And then, it happens again at the Talon. Let me set the scene: Lana. Me. Alone. Foamy cappuccinos. A conversation about passion, no less. And she was looking at me with those big, green eyes - you know how it goes. Then, when anybody less dorky than me would go in for the kill -- well, kiss -- the walls are flaming. Just great.  
  
Dad figures that the girls... um, triggering me, triggers the fires. In so many words, of course. Once I was done igniting half the farm (including a real scarecrow - take that, GI Jock!), I had it pretty much under control. I can pop popcorn and cook PopTarts -- Just call me Toaster Lad!  
  
Long story short: Desiree (the Hot for Teacher) had super meteor-enhanced uber-pheromones that convinced Lex to marry her and my father to nearly shoot Lex. Well, she tried it on me first, but it didn't work because of the dense-ness of my native race; it's probably the same reason you can't read my mind. Or, as Chloe so eloquently put it, I'm "immune to some members of the opposite sex." Ooh, burn. Heh. I'm sure that little alibi will go over great will all of the ladies fawning over me constantly.  
  
You can guess who (or what?) stopped Desiree before anything drastic happened. At least I didn't have to throw anybody thirty feet this time. But I did break out of jail, and knock my father out...  
  
Hm. My karmic scale is balanced quite delicately, don't you think?  
  
Anyway, I'll be awaiting your ever-so-glowing commentary on my new ability.  
  
Take my life. Please.  
  
Your favorite alien next to ET and Seven of Nine,  
Clark._


	2. Re: News on the Alien Front

**[A/N:  This is a response to the last chapter.  Duh.  Review!  And enjoy!!****]**

**From:** psyduck88@hotmail.com  
**To:** ckentrun@metro.ks.net  
**Subject:** Re: News on the Alien Front  
  
C'mon, Clark. Say it like a big boy:  
  
You got **_aroused_**, and it made you shoot fire from your eyes.  
  
And, since I _know_ you're blushing all the way down to your well-worn work boots as you read this, I'll answer the unspoken question. I may be a few years younger than you, but I wasn't born yesterday. I, too, am a teenage boy, and even "abnormal/special" males such as us go through the same miserable adolescence. I have met Lana, you know. Just, you... well, you're special-er than the rest. Your lust has side-effects!  
  
All hail the King of Weird.  
  
Can I be the prince?  
  
And I'd absolutely love to come back to Cow Country and make it all better for you with my amazing telepathic powers, but all these Edge City doctors are freaking out about my brain, and Auntie Em can't deal. It sounds like you're doing pretty darn well on your own, Warrior Angel. I doubt you'd really need my help, considering your capability to (in the words of your mother) "bench press the tractor" an' all. Pfft. And you complain.  
  
Man, you are the densest person alive. I'm starting to think that's why I can't read you, and Hot for Teacher couldn't seduce your sorry ass. To hell with alleged alienism. I'm pretty sure a superior intelligence would be able to tell when there are two beautiful girls (and a guy, maybe) fawning over him. Wake up and smell the manure, farmboy! Your only girl troubles are with yourself. I don't even need telepathy to tell you that.  
  
So, is Lex still married to this chick? He shouldn't be, or there's a disturbance in the Force. That man is destined to be alone in his life, Clark. Don't disturb Fate in her slumber.  
  
So ends tonight's Miss Cleo lecture.  
  
I have to go, but I'll call you in a day or two. I can't wait to hear your voice, and about all the funky new stuff you can do with heat vision. Or maybe I should call it Boner Vision? No, but seriously. _Heat vision_, man! You are truly the luckiest alien –- no, person --  I know.  
  
Your psychic pal,  
Ryan


End file.
